


Influence

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [65]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Gen, Hospitalization, Manipulation, Pre series, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:29:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7556572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam does something drastic under the influence of a supernatural creature. Dean and John kill her, sure that's the end of that. Sam is far less sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is another prompt I'm moving over. The first prompt was for Sam to be institutionalized for some reason; the second was a follow-up.
> 
> These are dark. Sam is depressed, has suicidal ideation, and has attempted. There is no happy ending, although Sam does not succeed.

They release Sam into his father’s care on a Thursday.

Sam knows it’s a Thursday because he was expecting group that morning, and group is on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. No one told him he’d be leaving.

He has a feeling they weren’t really ready to let him go, but he’s not a danger to himself or others at the moment, hasn’t hurt himself since they shut him in, and John’s his legal guardian, so he’s out the door.

He’s still wearing sweats, but Dean seems to have a bag of his clothes ready for when Sam gets a spare moment. It’s been almost two weeks since he was allowed to wear jeans.

They don’t talk. The silence actually feels genuinely stifling, like it’s going to strangle Sam as he sits in the damn car and just watches his family.

Maybe he should be embarrassed about his breakdown. Maybe they’re expecting an apology.

Sam doesn’t have one to offer.

“We got it,” Dean says when they stop at a reststop four hours later to refuel. “Salted and burned. So you should be good now.”

_ Good now _ . What a pretty, simple way to say that Sam’s goddamn English Teacher is dead, the monster who triggered anxiety attacks and sweeping depression to feed off the results is dead. 

The monster who left him so worked up, so convinced he was absolutely worthless, that he’d cut into his own arms.

The monster who’d leaned in and whispered to Sam that he was the most delicious, like artery-clogging fast food, because he was so _easy,_ most of the way there already, just needing to be tipped over the edge.

Sam hasn’t told anyone that part yet.

Dean looks like he’s waiting for a response. Then he looks doubtful. “Sam?” He asks. “You’re good now? Right?”

Sam’s silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he says.

And that’s all he says for the rest of the ride.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sits in the hospital chair, looking uncomfortable for a thousand different reasons. “I thought this was done,” he says. “Over with.”

Sam snorts and looks away from Dean. Done. Sure.

It’s been six months since Sam was committed, since his teacher turned out to be a creature feeding on them all. Since she told him how susceptible, delicious he was. Since John and Dean killed her, and they then assumed Sam was all better.

Sam slashed his wrists last night. Just finally reached the point where he couldn’t do it anymore.

Honestly, he made it six months. He thinks that in and of itself is an accomplishment.

Sam’s always been like this, after all. It’s what made that teacher choose him.

“They’re not going to let you out this time,” Dean says. Sam tries to figure out what he’s saying. Is it meant to be a threat, a threat of internment and removal from the family meant to scare Sam? Or is it an honest warning that wherever he ends up won’t just sign him out to John without a single question this time?

Sam can’t honestly find it in himself to care.

“Was it…Sam, you need to tell me. Did something happen?” Dean asks. “Was there another one of those things? Dad is out looking, anything you have to go on, we need it.”

Right. Because the only way Sam could be messed up is if something was making him be like this. Sam spares a thought to John, to every single person Sam may have met lately. He hopes John hasn’t done anything to any of them, isn’t far enough gone that he actually believes one of them pushed Sam to this.

“You know what, you’re selfish, is what you are,” Dean announces. Sam tries not to flinch. “Doing this. Now. While we’re already thinking about…” Dean doesn’t say it, but Sam hears it. Mom. It’s that time of year, after all. Sam wonders if Dean gets what that’s like for Sam. But of course he doesn’t. And Sam finds he doesn’t really care.

Sam looks at his wrists, bandaged and wrapped tight. It was pure luck that he’s here and not burning in a pyre right now. He knows how to cut, where to cut. But Dean came home early, and the lock on the bathroom was trash. So now he’s here, listening to Dean call him selfish.

He’s just so goddamned tired. Exhausted, bone deep, empty and done. There is nothing left for him to give or for them to take, and he wanted to be done.

He has for a long time, but he’d never seriously considered this step before the creature pushed him to it the first time. It had been so easy. And sure, the after affects had been messy, but if he could do it better this time…

He swallows. Guesses he’s repeating the whole process of being committed.

Dean stands. “They’re gonna throw me out soon anyways,” he says. “I…I don’t know what to think, Sammy. What to say. So. See you when they let you out.”

With that cold goodbye, Dean leaves him alone to stare at his wrists some more.


End file.
